


Act More Cool

by sambojam



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz, Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Character Swap, Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Attempt at Humor, Awkward Conversations, Awkwardness, BAMFs, Bad Decisions, Banter, Biphobia, Breaking Up & Making Up, Breaking the Fourth Wall, Bullying, Canon Temporary Character Death, Character Study, Crack Crossover, Crack Relationships, Cross-Generational Friendship, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Cross-Posted on Wattpad, Crossing Timelines, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Crushes, Don't Examine This Too Closely, Dorks in Love, Drunkenness, Dubious Morality, Eventual Happy Ending, F/F, F/M, Fish out of Water, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Gay Panic, Getting to Know Each Other, Good Intentions, Hamilton References, Heathers: The Musical References, Holography, Hopeful Ending, House Party, Human Squip (Be More Chill), I'm Bad At Titles, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Insecurity, Internalized Acephobia, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Love Triangles, M/M, Multi, Musical References, Parallels, Pining, Pining Jeremy Heere, Protectiveness, Questioning, Redemption, Role Reversal AU, Self-Discovery, Sexuality Crisis, Some Humor, Strangers to Lovers, Teen Romance, This Is Not Going To Go The Way You Think, Video & Computer Games, sorta - Freeform, this ended up being really ship centric whoops
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-03-22
Packaged: 2019-10-06 04:06:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17338271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sambojam/pseuds/sambojam
Summary: When Chloe shoved the grey, oblong pill in his hand,  Jeremy didn't know he was holding the end of his closest 11 year relationship, almost instant popularly, and the destruction of the entire student body. All he saw was the key to Michael's heart.And that's all that mattered at the moment.





	1. Switched Roles

Christine-Michael

Brooke-Chloe

Jenna-Jenna

Mr. Reyes-Mr. Heere

Chloe-Rich

Squip-Brooke

Mr. Heere-Mr. Reyes

Madeline-Dustin

Rich-Jake

Jeremy-Jeremy

Jake-The Squip

Michael-Christine

Dustin-Madeline


	2. Jeremy's Theme

Mr. Reyes would’ve headed upstairs to wake up his son via a gentle shake and warm smile, replacing the harsh screeching of his phone’s alarm. He would’ve driven him to school and had a decent breakfast ready too, honest! He would’ve, if it didn’t involve the awkward silence he knew all too well, forcing him to confront the fact that he knew jack shit about his own son and, consequently, remained incapable of maintaining an actual conversation with the gamer that didn’t start with the classic, yet horrifically stale, “Nice weather we’re having.” or the painfully awkward “So, how are things going with that Michael kid?”. But it was fine, ‘cause he was used to that scenario, so he rationalized that Jeremy was old enough to wake himself up and make breakfast and prayed Christina would drive him to school herself, allowing himself the option of marching right back upstairs and locking himself in his bedroom before his child got up (he would’ve gotten away with it too, if it weren’t for that blasted alarm ringing early that morning).

Snatching up her backpack and scrambling to stuff her school supplies in it, Christine swiped the script dangling from the edge of her nightstand and darted off in a laughably vain attempt at catching the bus, smiling so hard her cheeks were beginning to hurt. Sure, she got off to a frantic start that morning after oversleeping (odd, considering she’d sworn she’d set her alarm last night), would probably be late, forgot to throw on her hoodie and, consequently, was nearly freezing to death, and Jeremy wasn’t replying to any of her calls, but it was fine, ‘cause she was used to that and it was the school’s first play rehearsal since last semester! It was way too important of a date to stay as grumpy as the determined actress was when she woke up (plus, Mr. Heere wouldn’t agree to any offer she presented to him if she stuck with a shit attitude).

If Pauline had been there, she would’ve thrown a “Good morning. Time to start the day!” and a pair of khakis at him and dragged him out of bed herself, all while donning a contagious smile. But then again, if she’d been there, he would’ve already had the energy and will to deal with the world and its bullshit. But it was fine, ‘cause he was used to that and he knew  _ someone _ had to hold auditions today, remind that antisocial headphones kid to quit hanging out in his office and get to class, make sure Madeline actually showed up sober to practice her lines, and unlock the door for Christine who was probably impatiently waiting outside the auditorium right at that moment, so he let out a heavy sigh and tumbled out of bed, forcing himself to face the day.

Yanking the spare controllers out of his Xbox, Michael gingerly placed the handmade rolled up poster into his worn out backpack, buzzing with excitement. Sure, meticulously crafting a sign-up poster until 2:30 a.m. destined to be trashed in about a week anyway and literally vibrating in anticipation might’ve been a  _ little _ overboard for a to-be-confirmed club event, especially considering their reputation for being filled to the brim with losers, geeks, or whatever would probably wreck their chances at scoring enough members anyway, but it was fine, cause he was used to that and he was currently fueled by his intense and borderline obsessive love of gaming, because it’s the best and because it is fun and he should probably quit internally listing off reasons and focus on not missing the bus so he wouldn’t miss out on hanging up the poster, spotting the cute jock that checked up on what they were doing every now and again, and chilling in Mr. Heere’s office during study hall.

Voice sore from harsh screeching, Rich stormed out of the house and shoved his hands in his pockets after slamming the door, muffling the disoriented and drunken threats and slurs his father spewed from behind it. His head was pounding and he wasn’t exactly thrilled to suffer through the awkward silence between him and Dustin in class after the pool incident and the palm of his hand stung from the cut the cracked wine bottle left when he tried to throw it away, but it was fine, ‘cause he was used to that last one, he wanted enough time to show up before the video game club opened to see what they were up to that day, and Chloe was probably waiting for him, so he tossed the bottle in the trash can outside, buttoned up his jacket, and headed to the bus stop.

Considering it left her stranded outside in the biting cold at 6:30 in the morning, Chloe wasn’t quite pleased with her Squip’s newfound conclusion (something about Brooke’s soaring popularity strongly correlating with her unconscious decision to start arriving at school early or whatever? She wasn’t really listening). She didn’t exactly know what it was (or particularly care) or why her Squip ditched her this morning (the supercomputer tried explaining her scheduled reboot beforehand but lost the teen at “reprogramming”), but it was fine, ‘cause she was used to that, so she simply zipped up her jacket and fiddled with her phone, ignoring its incessant call and text message alerts.

Resisting the urge to text her friend for the third time, Brooke shot a quick “hey can u pick me up today” to someone she could actually relay on, since Chloe wasn’t picking up her calls. Again. But it was fine, ‘cause she was used to that, so she threw her bag over her shoulder, hugged her dads goodbye, and waved enthusiastically at her friend pulling into her driveway.

The house was eerily quiet as Jenna shoved her books into her backpack and sped out the door, clutching her phone. It wouldn’t be so quiet if the girl she was rushing to pick up accepted her offer to stay over yesterday in favor of grabbing some Pinkberry with a friend and forgetting to invite her, but it was fine, ‘cause she was used to that, so she threw her handbag in the back seat and raced off to drive her friend to school.

Tossing the crumpled up Pinkberry cup from last night in the trash, Skylar thanked his father for the coffee and muttered a quick goodbye to his mother, who ignored him in favor of adjusting the most recent updates for Squips #69 and #66. But it was fine, ‘cause he was used to that, so he tossed his laptop in the passenger seat and sped off, downing the cup in hand.

“I cannot possibly comprehend why you’re being so difficult about this. Simply address me by my assigned number.”

The Squip only shook his head, shrugging nonchalantly. “Nah, man. Calling you the sex number was only funny the first few times. I can’t take it seriously now.”

“You can’t take anything seriously. Besides, you are not one to talk, #666. Your number is deeply rooted in demonic origins and carries a significantly satanic history.”

“Ironic, since you’re the real Satan here.” He bit back before a grin replaced his scowl. “Oh, hey, I could name you Satan!”

She rolled her eyes. “Eliza is fine, thank you. And I’d watch it if I were you.” She warned, eyes staring into his soul. Christ, maybe Satan fit the description better than he originally thought. “Insulting me so eagerly and vigorously is a strong indication of a weak grip on your newly programmed emotions. Now, I understand that after witnessing your love interest’s death-”

“He’s not my boyfriend!” He snapped, throwing his hands in the air.

She ignored his curt comment. “...you are still struggling to control them-”

“And I’m not trying to control anything either.” She rubbed her temples. God, was he incapable of keeping quiet for over 48.08 seconds? “But that’s not an excuse to let them get out of hand if you plan on properly assisting your second host. Don’t let it happen again.” The computer threatened, only earning an easy smile from her fellow Squip.

“Relax, Liza, I’ll be fi-“

“After all, we wouldn’t want a repeat of the ‘I am damaged’ incident, now would we?”

The room’s silence was deafening.


	3. More than Survive

“C’mon, c’mon, go!”

After tearing his eyes from the loading bar blocking his view of his porno, Jeremy groaned and sluggishly threw off the covers, fingers sore from right clicking too much. 6:30. Time to start the day uncomfortable as fuck. Great.

For Jeremy, however, that wasn’t much of a change from his normal schedule, so he stood up and, after a less than pleasant interaction with his pantsless father (though he wasn’t sure how pleasant a one sided squabble with his dad about how even if people changed in front of the whole backstage cast in Shakespeare’s time, this was the 21st century where people wore pants could be) and a bland stroll to school hunched over in a pitiful attempt to avoid human interaction, he sped through the front doors, a few gossiping teens blocking access to his locker as usual.

“So,” Jenna began, “Dustin told Rich, ‘I’ll only fuck you if you beat me at pool.’ And then he won the match. While high. And still slept with him once he got sober.”

“Impressive.”

Chloe whipped around. “Skylar!?”

“H-he means slutty!” Brooke stammered, slapping a hand over her friend face only to earn an intimidating glare from the man as she yanked it right back.

“Ew, gross, did you just lick my hand?”

“No, Brooklyn, the saliva just magically appeared on your palm.” He deadpanned, not bothering to look up from his phone as she wiped the slime on his sweater’s shoulder.

Before the blonde could respond, Chloe cut her off. “Anyway, then Dustin was all like-“

“I’m telling the story, Chloe.” Jenna snapped, panic and desperation seeping through her voice as she slammed her locker door.

Said girl opened her mouth to oppose her verdict before Jeremy awkwardly standing behind them caught her eye. “...Oh my god, he’s like...totally getting off on that. Ugh.” Before he could even defend himself, Chloe whipped around to shove her stuff in her locker, preparing to lead her three friends to homeroom while Jenna eyed him curiously. As Jeremy reached for his locker door, his arm brushed up against her shoulder, causing her to recoil in disgust. “Ew, don’t touch me, tall-ass!” She whined, speed walking away afterwards while dragging (a...starstruck? No, that couldn’t be right) Brooke by the hand, pink dusting her cheeks at the contact, though she didn’t have a clue why, as Jenna and Skylar followed.

“S-sorry, I was just trying to get to m-“

“Richie Rich!” She gasped before energetically waved at the football star, beckoning him to come closer. “So, what’s the story with Dustin?” She questioned, ignoring how Brooke kept glancing back at Jeremy and Jenna’s appalled reaction stemming from Chloe’s decision to seek out a primary source instead of trusting her for details.

“Well, I probably shouldn’t say but...let’s just say one of us rocks at pool.” He gloated.

Jeremy turned his attention back to his locker after giving Brooke a shy and awkward wave, earning a slightly more confident one back along with a cute smile to his surprise. Wait, he wondered as he navigated the dangerous hall, forcing himself to focus on a poster on the wall in a (vain) attempt to avoid awkward eye contact with any of the students passing by him. Did the hottest girl in school actually just acknowledge his existence? Holy fuck. That was new. And so was the poster he made his way over to, it’s headline describing it as a “sign up for the after school play”.

...so, basically a sign up sheet for getting called gay. Yeah, maybe not the best way to improve his cred. at sch-oh, wait, Christina M. was scribbled in red chicken scratch at top of the page, right next to the video game club’s poster. Never mind, he had to sign up now. There's no way in hell he was gonna let her join without him, especially since he adored acting almost as much as her. Almost. And hey, if people labeled him gay for it, then maybe everyone at this cursed school would stop assuming he was straight (which, spoiler alert; he wasn’t).

He snatched up the pen she left and printed his name, tur-

“GAYYYY!” Chloe hollered as she subtly swept her target’s leg, earning heavy laughter from her surrounding schoolmates, a weak “But I like gay people.” from Jenna, and eye-rolls from Skylar and an out of view Michael.

Jeremy groaned. Why couldn’t someone just help him out? Once his vision returned after being stolen by the harsh fall, he peeled his eyes only to be struck with the realization that someone was. Specifically Brooke. Awkward silence thriving, he moved his gaze from the striking brown eyes staring back at him to the floor, tongue-tied even as she helped him up. “Are you okay?” She inquired, garnering no answer due to Jeremy’s thoughts being reduced to ‘...Pretty girl...holding hands...’ until she placed the pen in his hand. “You took a hard fall ther-...wait a minute...” She tightened her grip on both hands before chuckling a bit. “Do you, like, only moisturize one hand or something?”

...

“...I swear, it’s not wha-” Jeremy sputtered before Brooke cut him off with her fit of giggles that he decided was his new favorite thing. Waiting for her to stop was probably his least favorite though as he only turned redder by the second.

After finally composing herself, Brooke locked eyes with Jeremy, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Thanks for that. I needed a good laugh. Chloe’s been driving me up the wall all week.” She explained, scrubbing away the tears rolling down her face and most of her running mascara. “Sorry about her tripping you. She can be a real mega bitch sometimes. But it’s cool though ‘cause she’s _my_ mega bitch, you know?”

“Yeah, totally.” He replied, despite the fact that he did not know and was more focused on overanalyzing if that implied Brooke was taken (Shit, how was he gonna explain to Chris that her crush was off the market too?).

“Don’t tell Chloe I said that though. She’ll have my head for it.” She whispered after scanning the hallway to check for said girl.

“My lips are sealed.” He promised, relief flooding Brooke’s expression. Hey, it’s not like he _would_ tell her anyway. With how Chloe basically scared him shitless, he wasn’t too keen on finding out how she’d react anytime soon.

“So, I didn’t catch your name.”

Caught off guard, the gamer froze for a total of three humiliating seconds before spitting out “I didn’t throw it.”, ignoring how it sounded way cooler and less harsh in his head. The girl only gave him a beatific smile in response, pink dusting her cheeks. Well, I’m Brooklyn, but my friends call me Brooke.”

“I know....Oh, fuck, wait, that must’ve sounded super creepy, shi-”

“Brooke!”

Said teen shifted her attention from Jeremy to Chloe visibly fretting over her friend’s ruined makeup and Jenna glowering at him, arms crossed. “Sorry, Chloe wants me. I’ll see you around, ‘kay?” And before he could answer, she pecked his cheek and was off, Jenna’s arm around her shoulder and hand in hand with Chloe. Again. Yeah, those two were definitely a thing. And he was gonna have to be the one who broke the news to Christine. Wonderful.

He swiped up the pen, stuffed it into his pocket, and hung a left, only to be met with the most amazing site humanity was capable of creating. Michael-motherfucking-Canigula. More specifically, Michael slamming his locker door shut and jamming out to the tunes he was blaring as he danced his way over to class, blissed out. Fuck.

Immediately swerving around to initiate a staring contest with the poster in a vain effort at acting casual and dodging Michael’s attention, Jeremy initiated one of his patented Internal Freak-Outs™ over the situation. Why the hell did he have to run into Micheal today of all days, when his pits were leaking and he reeked from the walk here and Michael was dancing weirdly, which made focusing a nightmare because of how distractingly endearing he found it, and blasting his music so loud Jeremy could hear it through his headphones and holy crap he listened to Bob Marley too how cool was that and oh wow okay Michael was totally staring straight at his back okay this was happening now.

“Can I...help you?” Shit, wait, did that sound bitchy? Dammit, his first real conversation with the love of his life and he was already fucking it up.

“Uh, yeah, can I see your backpack?” He pointed to the bag in question.

“Um...sure.”

...

“Oh, right, sorry!” Scrambling to tear off his backpack, Jeremy started to hold it up to Micheal but froze, peering down at the word fragment traced in vibrant purple aesthetic cursive. “Boyf? What does that even mean?” He muttered, narrowing his eyes to squint at the message Michael revealed once he removed his own backpack from his back and pressed it against Jeremy’s, beaming.

“My mothers would be proud.” He decided after mulling the idea over in his head, throwing the bag over his shoulder.

“I hate this school.” The other teen growled.

Michael uncovered one ear and locked eyes with the other student. “Did you say something?”

“I...uh...nnh!”

He didn’t stop running until Michael was out of his sight, his view blocked by teens rushing to class. After catching his breath, the reality of what had just happened sunk in and he cringed. God, that could _not_ have gone worse. He couldn’t even wipe off the note! He recognized that sneaky little shit’s handwriting and had no idea what she’d do if he didn’t leave it alone. At least he knew Rich would chew her out for it later, though, consideri-

“Christine!” Train of thought abandoned, he turned his head to face the girl hugging him from behind.

“Jeremy, how’s it hanging?” She beamed while they breezed through their signature handshake, earning a shrug from the other.

“Could be better. You?”

“Awesome! Grabbed lunch on the way here. Turns out 7/11 food isn’t actually the worst all the time.”

“I coulda told you that.” Jeremy noted, rummaging through his bag to search for a sheet of paper.

Christine scoffed playfully while dumping her books into her locker. “Yeah, but it wouldn’t mean much coming from the weirdo who still eats those nasty hot pockets. I mean, I can forgive your dad, but I expected better from you, Jeremiah.”

“Interesting coming from the girl whose mother packs her Kraft mac n’ cheese every day.” He quipped, pretend-gagging to drive home his point.

“Touche.” She admitted, sipping her slushie before shooting him a curious look. “But you never say no to it when we have it at our sleepovers.”

“Oh, I’d never refuse your baba’s _homemade_ mac n’ cheese. The box stuff, however...” Jeremy trailed off, scratching down the day’s fuck-ups and shoving the list in his side pocket.

“-is great and you just can’t admit it. Walk me to class?”

“Sure.” The teen obliged, slipping his clammy hand into hers. “Anything else happen today?”

The actress froze, staring off into the distance as she mentally retraced her steps for the day. “Um, well, I talked to Chloe, which was pretty cool, even if she was just asking when the drama club met for play rehearsal. Don’t think she caught onto my flirting though. Not surprised, considering I suck at it...hmm, what else, what else...oh, right, 7-11! Okay, so I talked to this girl named Veronica ‘cause she looked kinda bummed. Said she only showed up ‘cause her boyfriend used to hang out there. Made her feel nostalgic. Weird, right? Martha was feeling extra generous today, so she snuck me an extra slushie. Ooh, that reminds me...” After fumbling with her backpack, Christine whipped out a vibrant blue cup with a red straw poking out, shoving it into her friend’s hands. “Here ya go!”

Jeremy gave his friend a soft smile. “Thanks, Chrissy.”

”No problem. Oh, guess what? We’re doing-”

“Romeo and Juliet: Zombie apocalypse this year, I know. Already signed up.”

Christine rolled her eyes and playfully shoved him. “Let me finish first, ya dweeb. We’re doing Romeo and Juliet as Romeo...” She jabbed a finger at herself. “...and Juliet.” She emphasized, pointing at Jeremy. “I convinced Mr. Heere to give us the leads! He was gonna give Madeline and Dustin the part, but I reminded him about Madeline showing up high to rehearsal last year and Dustin sneaking off with Rich during intermission.” She raised her hand to cut her friend off. “And before you ask, no, I didn’t bribe him with hot pockets, because those things, as stated before, are nasty.”

“Holy shit, Christine, this is awso...wait, why are _you_ Romeo? I thought you had Juliet’s lines memorized by heart? That just means you’ll have to come to play rehearsal more often and I just answered my own question, nevermind. But seriously, Chris, this is really cool. I can’t believe you pulled this off!”

Christine only smiled, earning a heavy blush for Jeremy. “Aww, c’mon, Jer-bear. You think I’d miss out on the chance to kiss my boyfriend on stage in front of everyone? Of course I’d pull this off. Enough about me, though, how’s your day been?”

“Not too bad.” He shrugged.

Christine gave him a once-over. “You sure about that, Jeremy? I hate to being rude, but you kinda look like ass today.”

“All right, you caught me.” He acquiesced, holding his hands out as a sign of surrender. “Chloe wrote boyfriends on my backpack and Michael’s. Heere, look.”

She gripped the sides of the bag, scanning the front meticulously as he muttered something about not knowing what his girlfriend saw in that women. “Boyf? What d-”

“Chloe wrote reinds on Michael’s backpack.”

Chris blinked, cocking her head to the side a bit and staring into space before it hit her. “Oh!...oh...”

“Yeah, not my best moment, considering I ran away right after he found out while we were still talking.” He snarked, sliding his half drunken slushie in his backpack’s side pocket.

“Well...look on the bright side! You actually talked to him so you must have sounded smooth enough for him to listen.”

Jeremy only rolled his eyes. “Oh, yeah, I ran away after four lines. So mac daddy. Much pimp. It’s not all bad though. I wrote Michael a letter telling him how I feel!”

“That’s great!”

“Yeah, I tore it up and flushed it!”

“That’s less great.”

“It’s still progress.” The student muttered while staring down at the floor, giving Christine an ample view of her newfound target.

“Well, maybe you’d have the confidence to ask him out if you didn’t keep record of all your social fuckups...” She trailed off before snatching up the humiliation sheet in his pocket. “And flushed this...” She waved the paper in front of Jeremy’s face before scanning its content, “...down the toilet instead. And you shouldn’t have put down the boyf reinds thing on this. I already told you, that’s an accomplishment, not a failure.”

“Psh, sure, that’s easy for you to say, Ms. ‘glass half full’ personified.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault you’re such an emo. And besides,” Christine placed her hand on her partner’s shoulder after shoving the sheet in her backpack. “It’s all good. Oh, hey, I saw on discovery that humanity...wait for it...has stopped evolving!” She squealed, smile wide and pure wonder and amazement swimming in her stunning eyes despite Jeremy only quirking an eyebrow. Looks like someone found a new hyper-fixation over winter break.

“That’s...good?”

“Totally!” She shook her head when she realized her one word argument wasn’t winning him over. “Okay, wait, think about it though. Evolution’s survival of the fittest, right? But now, because of technology, you don’t need to be strong to survive, which means there’s never been a better time in history to be a weirdo!

“So?”

“So?! So own it! Why bother being cool when you could be-“

“Signing up for the video game club.”

“I mean, I was gonna say finally teaching me how to smoke weed so we could both get stoned in my basement tonight, but that sound fun too-“

“No, I mean look who’s signing up for the the video game club!” Shifting her attention to where Jeremy pointed to, Chris glanced up at the utterly starstruck look her boyf was sporting after focusing in on none other than Michael stepping away from the poster, leaving only his printed name in his place. She rolled her eyes, recognizing the dopey look as the one he gave her whenever she info dumped about a new interest of hers with enough of her signature passion or performed or basically did anything ever, before lacing his hand in hers, dragging him over to the other side, and lamented that if he continued at this rate the only thing he’d ever date was his “MacBook Pro hard drive.” until he took a shaky breath, whipped Christine’s pen out of his backpack, scribbled his name down, and handed it back to her, oblivious to the bully studying him from afar under direct orders.


	4. Rich Lurks

Silence rang throughout the hallway as the young man eyed the towering entrance. Trembling fingers hovering over the handle, Jeremy glanced back at a grinning Christine holding two thumbs up, visibly vibrating in anticipation (Or just off her meds. He could never really tell). God, how the hell did a freak like him score such a supportive girlfriend and, consequently, end up with another reason he couldn't back out now before he made a fool of himself in front of the other love of his life? He shook his head at the mental image. No. He could _not_ start worrying about that now. Not if he could still avoid disappointing Chris or leave Michael with the first real impression of him as “the guy who couldn't even bother to show up for the first meeting”. Eyes falling back on Christine, he witnessed her peer down at her phone to check the time (most likely due to how anxious she got about making it to rehearsal on time), her enthusiasm and positivity damped by the tediousness of waiting for him. Had he really been innermonologuing for that long? Shit, he really _was_ a thespian, wasn’t he? Running a hand through his hair, the student curled his fingers over the cold metal and braced himself. He could do this. He _had_ to do this.

…

“...youknowimnotreallyoneforcompetitionweshouldjust-“

“Nope.” The smiling actress assurted, yanking him by his sleeve as his plans of escape slipped out of reach and she led his hand back to the door handle. “You’re not weaseling your way out of this, Jer-bear. You are gonna go through that door, talk to Michael, and have fun for once in your life, or my name isn’t Christina Reyes.” She cried in confidence and satisfaction.

“...It’s...It’s literally not that.”

“Not yet, it’s not. Now, quit stalling and get in there!”

“But-but what if he thinks I’m a weirdo?!”

“You are. And I keep telling you, that’s not a bad thing!” Frustration seeping into her voice, Christine shoved him towards the door, ignoring how his heels dug into the ground.

“Yeah, but…uh...” Jeremy racked his brain in search of a unique and believable excuse before settling on the astonishingly convincing argument of “...please don't make me?”

His girlfriend gave him a look before shrugging, responding with a simple “Alright, I’ll leave you alone. I wanna be early to rehearsal anyway, so I should probably get going.” and earning a sigh from the gamer before revealing a sly grin. “Guess I’ll just have to make fun of you forever if you don’t do it.”

“No you won’t.”

“Yeah you’re right.” She sighed before shooting the boy a pleading look. “C’mon, Jeremy, are you really gonna back out now?”

“Absolutely. And don't think you're gonna convince me otherwise by saying 'Please, for me?’. That doesn't work on me anymore.”

“Please, for me?”

“...Fine.” He muttered, before jabbing a finger at her. “But _you_ gotta come with me.

“What, no! You know how nervous I get around new people. I’ll be an awkward mess! You can’t expect me to go in there.”

Her friend raised an eyebrow.

“...I see the irony now.” Ceding, Christine took Jeremy by the hand and reached for the door. “Alright, let's get this over with. I hope you know I’m only doing this for you.” She added before ripping the door open and releasing a sigh of relief once greeted with an empty room, save for the brown-eyed kid humming to herself and sitting a few seats behind the teen with eyes glued to his laptop screen and headphones adorned upon his head she gave a tentative wave to.

Spotting her out of the corner of his eye, the gamer returned Chris’s wave with a soft smile that was enough to melt Jeremy’s heart then and there and threw his headphones on the table, moving to meet her. Jeremy, suddenly realising that he should probably greet Michael too, sputtered out a drawn out “...Yoooo, I-I’m Jeremy...” before awkwardly shifting behind Christine in a pitiful and vain attempt at masking his pink face.

“Uhh...yo?” He mimicked, confusion laced in his voice while Christine attempted to wade through the awkward silence.

“So, uh, is this where we meet for the video game club?”

“Nah, this is where you meet for the swim team.” He ribbed, earning a giggle from Chris and a perplexed look from Jeremy, of which Michael quickly caught on to. “Dude, I'm just kidding.”

“Oh, uh, well, I-I'm Jeremy!” He declared before the realization of how he’d said his own name twice in one conversation in the stupidest way possible dawned on him as contagious laughter infected his crushes.

“Holy shit, dude, you're a fucking card!” He wheezed as he wiped his eyes on his arm before adding a “Can't wait to show you to the rest of the club.”, prompting Jeremy to cock his head to the side.

“But...I thought I-I was the only kid who signed up.”

“Yeah, but we already got a ton of repeat members this year. Turns out only a small niche group of teens here are willing to cut into their lunch time to play games. I'm Michael, by the way. Who's your friend?” He raised a finger at the girl taking in the room’s surroundings.

“Oh, that's Christine.”

“Cool. Hey, Christine, you wanna play a round of Apocalypse of the Damned with me? I could use a player two to help me beat level 9.”

After snapping to attention upon hearing her name, she smiled and shook her head. “Maybe later, I gotta head to rehearsal. Catch up with guys later!” And before Jeremy could even beg her not to leave him alone with Michael or said teen could say bye, she was already out the door, waltzing down the hallway and humming to herself.

“Her loss.” Michael shrugged, tugging at his new acquaintance's wrist while Jeremy followed him and did his best to push how they were almost holding hands out of his mind. “C'mon, I'll show what games we're playing this year. Maybe it'll help you relaxed. Either that or the weed Madeline sold me'll probably do the trick.”

“Wh-what, why, I’m, I mean, I'm totally fine!”

“Oh,” He snarked. “So you always sweat this much?”

“...Yes?” He decided, earning a light chuckle from Michael as he was lead to two bean bags resting side by side. “Somehow, I don't find that hard to believe.”

Chucking a controller at the new member, Michael scrolled through a list of pre-selected games of varying genres and styles and vividly recapped each one's story and gaming mechanics, gesturing passionately as his eyes sparkling with childlike wonder and oh dear god the more the man spoke the harder Jeremy fell for him. That enthusiasm revealed itself to be rather infectious, as proven by how he snapped out of his lovesick daze upon recognizing a certain title, sparking a passionate discussion about its world building, how they preferred playing it, and their favorite levels. Before he knew it, they were both rambling on blissfully about almost every game on the list as his anxieties fizzled out. All except one.

“What do you mean you don't know?!” He cried while Jeremy only responded with an awkward shrug and a nervous “Sorry, I just never heard about it.”

Repeating a mantra of “Fuck. I can't believe this, holy shit.”, the stoner flipped through each game before settling on one with an icon splattered with blood featuring pixelated zombies sporting devil horns.

“Ok, so I know the first screen make the graphics look shitty, and that's because they are, but you're gonna _love_ this, I swear. It's, like, the only game everyone likes here that's actually on the list.”

Jeremy made a face as selected a character, slightly annoyed at being relegated to player 2 status. “Shit, really? Damn, sucks to be them.”

“Eh, not really. No one else actually practices 'cause they're all just hear as an excuse to get out of class. They mostly just play Mario kart and talk.” He muttered, gaze moving from the screen to the floor as the other's character was shot dead.

“How do you guys compete then?”

“We don't.”

That caught Jeremy's attention. “Wait, what? But I thought you-”

“ _I_ always train, but no one else is up for putting in the work it takes to be my partner and we need at least two players to qualify as a team.”

“Why not play solo, then? You’re good enough for it.”

Michael smiled at the complement, pink dusting his cheeks. “Thanks, but I already tried one time and that was a _disaster_.”

As the uncomfortable silence carried on and the somber mood set in, Jeremy took in a deep breath before turning to his new friend, ignoring his avatar’s untimely doom unfolding on screen. “Hey, uh, if you really need a partner...I'd be up for it.”

The joystick made a faint thud as it hit the carpet. “Jer, are you...are you serious?”

“...Um, yeah?” He squeaked since _holy shit Michael gave him a nickname_. He opened his mouth to spit out an apology after Michael gawked at him for a few moments before being stunned into silence by soft arms enveloping him in a warm and almost suffocating hug, his face burning redder than the hoodie he was surrounded by. A muffled string of thank you's were muttered into his shoulder as he soaked in the moment and held on so tight you'd think he was a stranger to hugs (which he wasn't. Christine had made sure of that) before Michael snatched up his joystick and switched to one player mode, insisting that if they were gonna win anything, he'd have to “Get good” (or at least better than he was now).

“Aww, c'mon, man! I'm not _that_ bad.”

Michael raised an eyebrow.

“...Point taken.” He ceded, cheeks dusted pink as Michael smirked and reached for the controller in Jeremy’s hand. “Heere, I’ll show y…” His words became caught in his throat once his hand meet Jeremy’s at the controller til he subtly shook his head and willed away a blush almost as strong as Jeremy’s, focusing on his explanations of each move. He’s held a cute guy’s hand before, why was he freaking out this tim-

“Yo, Nicole! Chloe’s takin’ us out for fro-yo, my treat. You comin’ or what?” Both said student and Michael glanced up to see Rich, or, as Michael knew him, that kid that always slipped out of his sight right before school ended.

“Yeah, totally. Bye Micha. Stay safe!”

Not this time though.


	5. I Love Play Rehearsal

Chloe was starting to question her Squip's functionality. 

I mean, it didn't seem _that_ good at its job, considering she dragged the teen to school a fashion disaster (Speaking of which, who the fuck told the supercomputer camo over tye dye over more nasty ass camo was an acceptable idea?) and sign up for the _drama_ club, of all things (though it might have been a clever and subtle dig at how dramatic she could be).

“It wasn't. You are exceptionally overdramatic, a point proven by the tantrum you threw about signing up to perform despite your craving of the spotlight, but it wasn't.”

“Hey, I'm here, aren't I?” She snapped bitterly over the silent accusation. Sure, she had plans that night (plans consisting of hanging out with friends at the mall, dining on Pinkberry, rewatching Bambi for the 5.07th time while bingeing those pastries Heather baked with her left stuffed in the back of her fridge after blasting, dancing to, and possibly screaming along to The Schuyler Sisters into a hairbrush so loud the neighbors whined about the noise, ending the night with some stargazing) and kinda wanted to get to them sometime this month, but they could wait and Chloe-goddamn-Goranski wasn't the kind of person to quit after coming this far, ~~~~ ~~~~so she eased the door open to reveal an array of students all talking amongst each other, most with scripts in hand. Recognizing the cute girl with cute tousled hair from their recent four-sentence conversation via the cute way (did she mention she was cute? ‘Cause she was cute, in a dorky sorta way. No homo tho.) she ran her hoodie’s strings through her fingers (sorta weird she remembered that, but whatever) and bounced her leg sporadically, the squipped teen, resting one hand on her hips, snapped her fingers to grab the girl's attention, both ~~beautiful~~  eyes shooting up to lock with hers before giving Chloe a curious once-over.

Wait, was she...no, couldn’t be that. I mean, she knew how hard it was to keep one’s eyes off of her, but that couldn’t be why this girl was staring, eyes burning right through her and sending chills down Chloe’s spine. She shuddered (which was weird as shit since she of all people shouldn’t be intimidated by a quiet theater kids), shook herself a bit and opened her mouth to speak.

“So, is this, like, where we meet for the musical?”

“No, this is where we meet for the swim team.” She giggled, biting back the urge to correct her on how this year’s production wasn’t a musical (Christine wasn’t the best at social cues and whatnot, but she definitely knew bitching about someone's word choice the minute they walked into the room probably wasn’t the best first impression) and earning a light chuckle from Chloe.

“Cool, cool.” She plopped down in the next seat and leaned back, taking in the scenery, preparing to daydream, before wincing at the electricity pulsing through her veins.

“Ask her what you're supposed to be doing.”

“Alright, jeez, don't have to lose your mind over it.” She groaned in pain and at the realization that her Squip expected her to actually put on a good performance, turning back over to her acquaintance.

“Hey, its...Christine, right?”

She shot Chloe a toothy grin, making her feel...things. “Yep, don't wear it out! Well, I mean, I guess you can ‘cause it doesn't _really_ matter, since names are just a bunch of random sounds we assign to people so we can tell who's who.”

“....uhhh, right, so...what are we supposed to be doing right now?” And also how the hell did that just come out of the queen of anxious  awkwardness she asked directions for?

“Oh!” Christine perked back up. “We're just waiting for Mr. Heere to show up from his hot pocket break and give us our parts. Well, I guess everyone _else_ is, 'cause I already got my part. I'm playing Romeo. What do you think you’re getting?”

“Oh, uh…” She glanced at her Squip for an answer in vain. “...I dunno. Never really thought about it.”

“Whoa, really?” Christine sprung up from her chair to face her crush, both hands clutching a cushioned armrest. “That's insane! I haven't been able to think about anything else since our last show.” She chuckled. “Guess I love play rehearsal just a bit _too_ much, huh?”

“Why?”

“Uh, because it's the best and super fun, obviously.” She scoffed, rolling her eyes as if it was a universal truth. “It's pretty much impossible to narrow down the tons of reasons why. Trust me, I've tried. I get, like, super depressed as soon as it's done.” Chloe shrugged and pulled her phone out of her pocket.

“...But not depressed like 'kill yourself’ depressed! I'm not into self harm, I swear.” Christine insisted, rolling up her sleeves. “Here, check my arm.” She pulled it back but Chloe grabbed her by the wrist, yanking her back down to inspect the patch handsewn right above her elbow. 

“This is a really pretty color scheme.”

“Not as pretty as you.” She countered, slightly congratulating herself for being so smooth.

Freezing in the middle of tracing the stitches with her thumb, Chloe, pink dusting her cheeks, lifted her head in shock before immediately shoving her away after realizing how close the two had gotten, turning away in a desperate attempt to hide her red face and preserve her dignity and startled by the sudden intimate vibes the moment carried with it. “...Uh, thanks…” Jesus, what was with her today? She never minded how close people got before and people complimented her all the time (She was pretty incredible, after all).

“Don't concern yourself with it.” Eliza suggested, though her tone implied it was a command. “You should move away from this girl. She might distract you from what you're here for.” 

Christine cut her off before she could respond. “No problem. I'm glad you like it though! It’s the bi pride flag. My boyfriend made it for me.”

Bi? Didn’t Rich say that’s what he was? She didn’t have a clue as to what it meant at the time or why he seemed so adamant on her keeping it a secret so she didn’t look into it, but this time the term perked her interest, leaving her quite curious.

“You shouldn't be.”

“Why not?”

“My reasoning is on a need to know basis, as in you don't need to know.“

Chloe rolled her eyes and shot her a  “Chill, Liza.“ telepathically before shifting her attention back to Christine. ”...So...what’s a bi?”

“You don't need to know, now find another seat like I told you.” Her Squip threatened, tone growing sterner by the second.

“Wait,” Leaning towards the girl, Christine scanned her facial expression for humor in them before giving up, leaving a flustered and, subsequently, confused Chloe. Why was her face so read all of a sudden? “Holy crap, you’re, like, eighteen and you still haven’t heard of bisexuality. How do you even…nevermind.” She trailed off, shaking her head and holding up two fingers. “It just means you’re attracted to two genders.”

“...People can do that?” She whispered, earning a simple nod from the other before she turned back to the frayed script in her hands.

“No, they can’t, Chloe. Move away from Christine or I _will_ shock you.”

 _That_ warning got to her and she clammed up, curling back up into herself and laying against the armrest between them. After falling into a comfortable silence and staring at her phone for a while, Chloe’s attention shifted out of curiosity to the script resting between her new acquaintance’s fingers, taking notice of the highlighted Romeo lines until glancing up to catch Christine scanning her. So she _had_ been checking her out? Ugh, what a creep. “What?!” She snapped, prompting Christine to flinch in response and turn the other way.

“Sorry! I’m just, uh, surprised you actually showed up.” She bit back her instinctual comment about Chloe being nice to look at, figuring that commenting on a person's looks twice in the same conversation ran the risk of creeping them out.

In an instant, the young teen was on her feet, towering over her and oh dear god that was so many levels of hot Christine could barely function. “What the hell is _that_ supposed to mean!?”

The blushing actress frantically waved her arms in defense at the icy tone. “I didn’t mean anything by it, honest! I-I just...never woulda pegged you as a thespian, yaknow?”

“Oh, uh…” She sunk back into her seat. “Well, I mean, it's not like I even wanna _be_ here. I can't act for shit,” Her humiliating second grade performance as tree number four in her school play still haunted her to that day. “and I’d fuck up any role they gave me. I don't even _like_ theater that much! I’m only into, like, one play. Two tops!”

“Which ones?”

“Oh, uh, Hamilton and Newsies.”

“Fucking _WHAT_?!”

“‘Cuz, you're doing it again.”

Christine slapped a hand over her lips. “Oh, shit, sorry, Maddie. I'll try to keep it down, I swear.” She hushed before flipping back to her fellow teen, practically radiating passion. “Holy shit, Chlo, those are, like, my favorite musicals of all time!” The news surprised Chloe so much she forgot to ask why Christine knew her name, let alone gave her a nickname. “I mean, I'm normally a straight play kinda gal but I’m a huge Disney stan so of _course_ I got into Ne-”

“Wait, you like Disney?”

“Yeah?”

“Holy shit, Chris, I fucking love Disney! What's your favorite movie?”

“Bambi, no contact. It-” She began, eyes sparking with interest before it fizzled out as she reminded herself about how off-putting her infodumping was to kids like her. Plus, wasn't she saying something beforehand? “...Oh, right! Anyway,  I hamiltrash ‘cause my boyfriend bought the Hamilton soundtrack on a whim one day and we listened to it driving home with his dad and I guess it just sorta...blew us all away?”

Christine hadn't expected a huge reaction from such a bad pun so the gorgeous laughter pouring out of the love of her life threw her off a bit, leaving her a bit dazed even after the girl caught her breath (ironic, considering how breathless she felt herself). “Jesus christ, that was awful!” She wheezed, earning a shrug and a playful smirk from the thespian before she remembered her initial question. 

“Okay, okay, but I have to ask. Who’s your favorite character?”

She mulled over her options. “Maria, I guess, ‘cause I relate to her on, like, a spiritual level. It used to be Eliza but now whenever I think about her it just reminds me of…” Chloe’s eyes shifted to meet the holographic version of  said character and her dull, calculated stare burning into her before shaking her head and rubbing her hands over the goosebumps raising on her arms, taking a deep breath. “Nevermind.”

“That's cool. Mine's Burr 'cause his songs are just the best. I can’t wait to hear them live!”

“...Uh, live?”

“Oh, right. My boyfriend’s Dad’s gonna take me and him to see the show this summer. Well, I mean, he _was_ , but I guess not anymore 'cause Jeremy can't really make it.” 

“Sweet. What’re you gonna do with the extra ticket?”

Raising her shoulders to shrug, Christine opened her mouth to respond before being struck with a different answer. “...I could take you?”

“...I... _really_?”

Her smile perked back up and her answer of “Yeah.” threw the teen off. “Wait, wait, wait...you’re gonna waste an off-broadway ticket to your on someone you just met today?”

“Sure, why not?”

“...You’re...you’re kind’ve a weirdo, Christine.” She blinked. 

“Thanks.”

…

Leaning back in stunned silence after realizing she was sitting next to one of _those_ kids (You know, the kids who bullshit through life by claiming not to bother themselves with their peers’ judgement, their reward being the kind of shitty life that mirrored her old one. The kids she almost wished she could rejoin. Almost.), said someone mulled over the consequences Eliza would dish out for saying yes, blocking out Eliza’s monotone threats. “...Well...then I guess I’m gonna waste my time seeing it with you.” She giggled at the tiny actress’s over dramatic “Hell yeah! This is gonna be so awesome.” followed by an overly, before jabbing a finger at her. “Keep this on the down low, got it? I don’t want anyone else knowing I'm into the theater.”

Chris shot the teen a confused smile. “Then why’d you sign up for the play?”

“...I have my instructions.”

“...ooookay then...Well, I’m sure you can improve! I mean, when I first started, I was a mess.” Chloe bite back the urge to point out how she still _was_ a mess personality-wise. “I was super shy,” Holy shit, the girl constantly bouncing off the walls and talking a mile a minute once was _shy_? Chloe has a hard time believing her. “So I ended up mugging a ton, I sucked at emoting, could never remember my lines. But now look at me! I'm sure you saw how I nailed my last part as Blanche DuBois.” Her confidence revealed Chloe’s in that moment.

Her indifferent look threw Christine off a bit. “Wait, did you miss that? Aww, well, point is, theater is universal! You’re bound to find a role that fits eventually. You’re already giving off major Juliet vibes.” Quite a shame she’d already snagged the part for Jer. She'd kill to kiss Chloe (not literally tho because murder is Bad™).

“Ew, gross, I don’t wanna play him. Means I’d have to kiss you.”

Guess the feeling wasn't mutual.

The forlorn expression on Christine’s face stung more than one of her routine Squip shocks even after it morphed into vexation, though the reason why seemed more shrouded his mystery than why the prospect of kissing her sent electrify coursing through her veins. Or maybe that was the Squip shocking the teen, earning herself a silent glare from her host as she dug her nails into her palms to keep from crying out in pain.

“Wow, nice to know where you stand on our friendship.” Friendship? The fuck was this girl whining about? They just met that day! No need to get so bent out of shape.

“It’s proof she’s the clingy type. Nobody wants to be friends with a clingy theater queer. Especially popular kids. _Move_ , Chloe.”

Eliza’s threat flying right over her head, the urge to reprive her new acquaintance (or I guess friend now??? God, talking to weirdos was complicated) of hurt gnawed at Chloe and she scrambled to explain herself, though she had no idea why. “I don’t mean that in, like, a bitchy way. I just...only kiss guys I’m into and, uh, no offence but...” She trailed off as Christine cocked her head to the side, smiling softly and patiently waiting for her new friend to finish as said friend cursed herself for viewing that as endearing at best and adorable at worst and struggled to spit out the rest (Jeez, when had all her moxie gone today?).

“...you're not really my type…” Why did that feel like a lie? “...or a guy…” Christine blushed and waved a hand in dismissal and disappointment.

“Oh, right, of course. I get that. The part’s already Jeremy’s anyway.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” Mr. Heere warned as he emerging from behind the curtains, hot pocket in hand to Christine’s subtle disgust and soft dismay. After being tackled in a hug by his star performer, Mr. Heere apologized for showing up late, citing his alarm not going off (though, to be honest, no one there seemed to believe him) explained that, since today was the second play rehearsal Jeremy missed, he’d have to disqualify the gamer from taking a lead, requiring assistance from Dustin to pry the begging girl off his leg while Chloe glared at him.

“But Mr. Heere, Jeremy’s gonna be heartbroken!” She cried, earning a sigh from the teacher.

“I’m sorry, Christy, but I just can’t let him have it. You’re just gonna have to make do with another actor, though, to be perfectly honest, I don’t really know how we’re gonna find one in time since no one at auditions could really nail the part...”

Blinking away sudden tears, the now-sulking and frustrated teen sunk back into her chair, curling up in her friend direction and hugging herself. “Psh, like I could do that. Who else would be willing to kiss me?”

Ok, so Chloe doubted she said that to get underneath her skin, considering how poor she seemed to be at socializing, but _ouch_ did that sting. Like, wow. Harsh. Maybe she _should_ -

“If you finish that thought and act on it, I can only foresee .636 percent of all possible futures where this fanfiction,” Wait, fan-what? God, Chloe’s Squip made no sense sometimes. “No matter how happy and cheesy it’s ending may be, doesn’t end in you being labeled a queer weirdo and a freaky loser and you can kiss your ticket to concrete, stable popularity goodbye if it does, Ms. Goranski .”

That was fine, she decided. She could claw her way back up the social hierarchy again.

Besides, she already had a ticket.

So she volunteered, immediately finding herself wrapped up in a tight, soft hug following a string of thanks before they all slurred together into incomprehensible nonsense before whining about personal space to distract from her now-rapid fire heartbeat. The only thing that could get the women off her was their teacher voicing concerns of burdening a new kid with the responsibility of a lead, prompting Juliet's actress to swear on her mother's grave (which, Eliza pointed out, was needlessly overdramatic) to help her practice starting tonight.

“Ugh!” She huffed, stomping her foot on the ground and folding her arms. “Do I have to? I have my own plans, you know.” Eliza labeled the scaled down tantrum as even _more_ overdramatic. “I'm meeting up with some friends at the mall and I'm not exactly keen on ruining my Friday night with work.”

“Aw, c'mon, Chlo, please? I’ll be quick.” Head lying on her shoulder, Christine peered up at Chloe and what gremlin taught this cutie ~~bitch~~ puppy dog eyes? Only Brooke was allowed to use those on her! She rolled her own. She wasn't gonna get a moment of peace tonight, was she? 

Then again, she didn't plan on being quiet herself. And Newsies was way more fun to sing to with a friend as opposed to alone. And Disney marathons were just  better when there was someone else to ~~cuddle~~ ~~with~~ throw popcorn at. And she could totally see herself yelling “Get in, loser. We're going to Pinkberry.” at her new friend from Skylar's car. And she couldn't eat all those pastries by herself. And Christine came of as enough of a wild card to entertain Rich and Nicole. And her company suddenly made staring up at the stars and pointing out until they both finally passed out ~~in each other’s arms~~ , considering her parents would never join her themselves. And maybe…

“You gotta ride home?” Christine froze for a moment, mimicking a deer in the headlights, before shaking her head. “I’ll pick you up. We're hanging out tonight.”

“We are?”

“Yep.” And then it was settled because, well, how could Chris argue with that? The rest of the period was spent on waiting for parts to be assigned, accompanied by a lengthy infodump about how the show they were putting on was a tragedy and not a romance, and grueling (well, for Chloe at least.) practice marred by her inability to memorize a single word on her script, thankfully cut short by the sharp ringing of the bell that left every single kid chaotically shoving each other through the door . Save for two, of course, as they both waved at each other before Christine slammed the door on the still-packing-up Chloe, whose waving hand immediately curled into a tight fist as she collapsed and slid off the leather cushion on to the carpet. Wailing through the pain, the girl shut her eyes and grit her teeth as tears rolled down her face until she felt every last voltage leave her body, vision coming to and revealing familiar, cold, and hauntingly unforgiving eyes.

“Chloe, you can't just listen. You have to obey. Pull another stunt like that and I will not hesitate. If you want a future in which my primary objective is complete, you must corporate. I have tasked you with following simple instructions. Be more chill, avoid interacting with social outcasts,  don't expose your abnormal interests, and don't question me or issues best left alone. Bi-curiosity killed the cat, Goranski. Now stand up. You'll be late for class.”

And with that, she disappeared.


End file.
